


Don't Let Me Go

by louis_ass



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mentions of Sexual Content, Song fic, idk what i wrote its 3 am, intense cheesiness, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-14
Updated: 2013-06-14
Packaged: 2017-12-14 23:16:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/842536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louis_ass/pseuds/louis_ass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry’s tired of watching the boy he loves with a girl he doesn’t. He’s tired of the boy letting him go. He’s tired of feeling alone. He’s tired of sleeping alone.<br/>He just can’t seem to let go himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Let Me Go

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry this is so awful omg but it's three AM and I was getting such feels from Don't Let Me Go because let's face it-Harry obviously wrote it about Louis. It's also super short and super cheesy. So yeah. Feel free to leave any opinions and such.
> 
> *Edited Note: I fixed the spacing because it looked awful. I also realized that I posted it on HTML when there was a rich text so of course nothing look right ugh. Sorry!): <3

Harry Edward Styles.

  
A simple name for a boy with such high intentions. One who doesn’t deserve to feel this sort of pain, but is feeling it anyways, because what can he do?

  
Harry’s in love with a boy who lights up the sky in a million colors, scattering any terrible thoughts Harry might have into the wind with one simple laugh. A boy that blinds him because his light is too much. It makes Harry’s own light dim and flicker in comparison, a simple gust of wind a threat to its very existence. It makes him crave the warmth from his best friend’s glow, makes him want the boy more than anything he’s ever wanted.

  
This boy’s name is Louis, and he loves Harry with his whole entire being. Harry’s the reason he shines so brightly, at such a blinding shade.

  
They’ve been in love since Harry was sixteen and Louis was eighteen. They’ve been hiding their love for just as long. They aren’t allowed to be in love.

  
But Louis, he’s with someone else. Has been for a while. It’s what management wants to happen, makes happen.

  
It’s what’s brought them here. Harry’s shattered, broken, his heart calling out one name but never getting a reply in return, its beating keeping the small light that flickers against the wind from burning out altogether.

  
Louis is fine, though. At least, as far as Harry can tell. He goes on dates with this girl Eleanor, and holds her hand and laughs with her and fucking smiles when they’re together.  
It’s like his words from what seems like a million years ago meant nothing. Their promises, their hopes, their dreams.

  
One particular promise that Louis made Harry is the basis of the relationship, planting seeds for this flower that’s got its roots deep and tight in the ground, a hold that nobody can break, but whose flower has yet to blossom.

  
\---

  
It was one night before they really became famous, back when they were only just contestants on the XFactor.

  
Harry had always been romantic, still is, and probably always will be. He had woken Louis up in the middle of the night, a wicked grin on his face as he told Louis he had a surprise for him. Louis had always loved surprised, and he loved how happy Harry looked, so he let the younger boy sneak them out of their rooms and into the outside world.

  
Harry took Louis’ hand, putting his index finger to his mouth and making a shush noise before starting to run, his hand still grasped tightly by Louis’ own. They don’t stay quiet, and they’re loud and laughing as Harry leads them to this park.

  
Harry’s already gone ahead before and set up a blanket, a bottle of wine Harry’s managed to have stolen lying on it, and Louis giggles, “You’re so cheesy, Hazz.”

  
Harry just grins, pulling Louis down beside him and snuggling up against the older, taller boy. The fit awkwardly together, but it makes them happy.

  
Louis murmurs something about opening the wine and Harry just hums, wrapping an arm around Louis’ torso and looking up at the boy he loved through thick lashes. Louis’ staring upwards at the stars that are shining above them, looking concentrated and breathless and just perfect.

  
Harry takes a breath, sitting up and screwing off the wine cap, figuring the wine probably tastes like shit since it had a screw off cap but hoping it’ll get the two boys buzzed. He sits up a bit straighter, taking a long swig, pretending not to notice the fact that Louis’ sitting up, too, his eyes trained on Harry’s throat. He hands Louis the bottle, and Louis gratefully smiles, downing a large amount himself.

  
The two boys sit like this for a while, a comfortable silence that neither wants to break holding over them like some sort of enchanted spell. All too soon, the bottle’s empty, and Harry doesn’t know what to do next, afraid he’ll do something wrong and be left with nothing. That Louis will flee and not look back at the foolish teenager behind him.  
Instead of leaving, however, Louis leans in, cupping Harry’s cheek and gently pressing his lips to Harry’s, a ghost of a kiss, an unsure ring to it. Like Louis’ the one who’s afraid of losing Harry though he never could because Harry belongs to Louis and only Louis.

  
Harry kisses Louis back, his large hands gripping at Louis’ waist as he deepens the kiss, feeling Louis relax into it. He opens his mouth, a compliant puppy, for Louis and gets lost in the feeling of Louis’ wet, hot mouth against his. Harry thought he was completely gone then.

  
Louis pushes Harry down onto his back, straddling the curly-haired boy without breaking their kiss, running his hands through Harry’s mop of curls, tangling his fingers to press Harry up against him, making sure there’s no space between their bodies.

  
Harry feels like he’s getting so lost in the kiss that there’ll be no way for him to find his way back. The beginning of the end. He’s ready to fall whether Louis is ready to catch him or not.

  
Louis breaks the heated kiss, breathing heavily with flushed cheeks, his pupils blown wide and a wild look on his face as he grins down at Harry, capturing the younger boy’s hands in his.

  
“Harry, I need you to promise me something,” he says in a rush, bending down to kiss the top of Harry’s knuckle.

  
Harry nods eagerly, licking his lips. “Anything for you,” he says, honesty the only thing making the statement stay afloat as he watches Louis with wonder because how can a boy this perfect even exist?

  
Louis grins, this happy excited look on his face. “Will you catch me one?”

  
Harry blinks up at him in a drunken state, confused as hell. “Catch you what, Boobear?”

  
Louis laughs like it’s the most obvious thing ever, lifting an arm and pointing at the stars above them. “Will you catch me a star?” Louis requests, one hand spread across Harry’s chest to keep himself from falling, and Harry wonders if the other boy can feel how fast his heart is beating.

  
Really, in all honesty Harry never quite fully understood Louis’ request. Never got how he was supposed to catch a star for the beautiful boy. But Harry knows he could never say no to Louis. No matter what, Harry will do whatever Louis wants him to.

  
So Harry kisses Louis sweetly, pulling back to whisper an ‘I promise’ and then their lips connect and they’re kissing and suddenly it’s more than that and they’re making love under the stars, excitement rushing through their veins because at any minute someone could catch them and it just makes everything that much better.

  
When they’re finished, before they go to run back to their rooms before they get caught, Louis has his arm around Harry and is pulling the boy closer to him, resting his eyes. Harry closes his, draping an arm over Louis’ chest and murmur-asking Louis if he’ll promise him something. Louis makes a sort of ‘mmm’ sound before asking what it was.

  
“Promise to stay with me? Please?” Harry opens his eyes for a minute, looking up at Louis with wide, innocently hopeful green eyes.

  
Louis smiles, kissing Harry’s forehead. “I promise,” he whispers so Harry can barely hear him, and he’s pulling Harry closer, neither realizing the stupid promises they’ve made.  
Harry smiles, whispering, “Don’t let me go.”

  
He’s not sure if Louis hears him or not, but he thinks he does because he swears he hears Louis say he won’t.

  
\---

  
Those promises have never left Harry’s mind three years later, and, well, those promises have been long since broken.

  
Louis’ let go of Harry, let him fall to hit the ground, not bothering to catch him in fear of not being able to hold the other boy’s weight.

  
Harry tried to bring back that star for Louis, but he’s ended up catching it and it burnt a hole through his hand, and he’s pretty sure he’s dropped it.

  
Maybe Louis’ broken his promise, but it’s killing Harry that he’s broken his and let Louis down. Even if Louis doesn’t seem to care, doesn’t seem to want Harry any more. Harry still cares, still wants Louis.

  
Those thoughts haunt Harry daily, nightly. Every waking second seems to be spent thinking of all those past moments and thoughts and promises that have been made between Louis and himself.

  
They’re what keep Harry up each night, a twist in his gut that kind of feels like a mixture of loneliness and a fear of something Harry isn’t quite sure of as silent tears make a trail down his cheek, his bottom lip trembling. He’s staring at this photo in the corner of his bedside table, and it makes his breath catch.

  
Of course the photo’s of Louis, it always is if it’s making Harry want to crawl into the corner up and curl up and cry and it always will be. The photo’s still in its frame, but there’s cracks in the glass, and there are pieces of glass mixing and scattered across the table. Harry can vaguely remember last night when he broke it. He was drunk and angry and upset, and the pieces had pierced his light skin, leaving marks and scars that are mostly faint now, but still a reminder of how much it really hurts to love Louis. Harry never bothered to clean up the mess. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever bother to, really. He likes yet loathes this one reminder.

  
Harry’s still holding on, and it’s getting harder to breathe, and it’s all so terrifying. He’s freefalling and there’s nothing he can do to stop himself.

  
Harry’s lying in his bed, in this shitty hotel, only a few rooms away from this incredibly gorgeous and perfect boy, and a realization hits him like a train. And, well, _shit_. Harry is here, in a fucking room only a few fucking rooms away from fucking Louis, and he’s doing nothing about it. And that thought just makes Harry lose it.

  
Harry swings his long legs over his bed, an anger infuriating him and igniting his thoughts. He has to talk to Louis. No, really he needs to talk to Louis. To kiss Louis. To love Louis. To be with Louis.

  
So Harry storms his way out of his room as dramatically as he can without actually waking anyone up, shutting his door quietly behind him and going to Louis’ room. He knocks loudly and angrily, rage bubbling up inside of his stomach.

  
Louis opens the door, looking sleepy and beautiful in this breathtaking way. It makes Harry want to grab the back of his head and press their lips together and kiss Louis until he’s a wreck underneath him, blue eyes blown and cheeks flushed.

  
Louis blinks, seeming to register that it’s Harry in front of him and an annoyed expression crosses the Doncaster boy’s face. “Harry? What the fuck are you doing?” he questions angrily, biting his lip as he looks up at Harry through dark lashes. It seems like forever ago that it was Harry looking up at Louis instead of the opposite.

  
Harry doesn’t answers, just shoves at Louis, stepping into his room, anger flashing in his eyes. “I hate you. I hate you and your stupid fucking girlfriend and I hate that you’re happy while I’m over here, dying because I’m not happy like you are, and it’s just not fair,” he says angrily, crowding Louis and looking down at him with a strong sense of hurt in his eyes.

  
Louis has this look of utter confusion in his eyes as well as some hurt. There’s a moment where the beautiful boy looks terrified as hell, and Harry feels this sadness in his gut and he wants to kiss away this look. But there’s a sudden change and Louis looks angry, looks like he could slap Harry. “ _The fuck_ Harry? You think I want to be with Eleanor? To not be with you?” His last question is quieter, and he looks down, tears streaming from his face and, well, _fuck_.

  
Harry frowns, placing a finger underneath Louis’ chin and making the boy look up at him. He looks down at Louis, focusing on his blue eyes and then his lips. He wants to kiss him, but still, his heart hurts. Louis betrayed him, broke his heart.

  
Harry shakes his head, curls moving along with him. “No, no, no, no Louis. You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to tell me you love me when we both know it’s not true. You’ve already broken my heart once, and I don’t need you to do it again, Lou,” Harry says, feeling his own tears slide down his face.

  
Louis searches through Harry’s eyes momentarily before grabbing the back of his head, fingers curling into strands of the other boy’s hair. Harry wants to ask him just what he thinks he’s doing, what he’s about to do, why he thinks he can do it. Instead, he’s left with no voice as he watches this beautiful boy’s eyes flicker to Harry’s plump, luscious lips and feels this gut-wrenching feeling.

  
Louis’ lips are pressed against Harry’s, desperate and scared. Harry doesn’t know what to do, so he kisses back, leaning forward slightly so Louis can reach him better, his large hands going to Louis’ hips. There’s so much hurt and hate in the kiss and things unanswered and things too beautiful to speak of and their love and how fucking complicated it is.

  
They move backwards, tears running down both of their faces until Louis feels the bed hit the back of his knees, and he’s on his back, looking up at Harry with this vulnerability and fuck. Harry’s gone, so far gone that he can’t see where he’s ever been before. He doesn’t really know if he’d ever want to go back or not, can’t really tell where he’s going.  
They’re rushing this, their mouths hot and frantic and Harry’s taking off his shirt while Louis watches with big, blown-out eyes. They move against each other, shedding clothing like some sort of race. They kiss again, limbs tangling and Louis flips them over, and suddenly they’re connected in this way that’s so intimate and so completely Louis and Harry.

  
They reach their boiling point, choking each other’s name out in deep breaths and they come down together, sweaty bodies pressed together and everything’s falling apart even though it couldn’t have been more tightly sewn together.

  
Harry flips them over, staring down at him and searching for something more, some sort of sign that this is oaky, that they’re all going to be okay.

  
Louis looks back up at him and suddenly he’s shaking, tears rushing down his face again, gasping for breath. “I’m so sorry, Harry. So, so, so sorry Harry! I fucking love you so much it hurts but I don’t know what else to do because it’s like they own me and everything and I can’t do anything about it,” he gasps, eyes puffy and face red and Harry just can’t.

  
“I love you, Louis. I hate watching you from so fucking far away with someone else, and you’ve just hurt me so much and I don’t know what to do to make you see how much I need you and I don’t know what to do,” Harry says in a rush of words leaning down and kissing Louis hard. It’s angry and it’s a try to make up for so many words that can’t really be said, and the kiss until they’re gasping for breath.

  
They pull away, foreheads still touching. Louis looks up with look of shame and he manages to choke out a few simple words. “I’m sorry I let you down, Harry. I didn’t mean to break my promise.”

  
Harry just smiles this sad sort of smile because, well, they’ve both broken too many promises and it’s all too much. “I’m sorry I couldn’t catch a star for you,” Harry breathes before blinking and then smiling this forced little smile. “Well, maybe I did. I caught you, but you sort of burnt a hole in my hand and slipped away.”  
Louis laughs because Harry’s humor is utterly terrible, and he just shakes his head, pushing Harry off of him and snuggling closer to Harry like he’s afraid of losing him. As if Louis could ever lose Harry. “You’re a complete idiot, Harry.”

  
Harry pulls Louis closer, laughing and kissing his forehead and just breathing Louis in. “Mmmm, you love me.”

  
Louis chuckles, clutching Harry and snuggling his face into Harry’s chest. “Jesus,” he says with a grin before softly adding, “Promise me one more thing?”

  
Harry blinks before slowly and carefully saying, “Okay-what is it?”

  
“Don’t let me go. Don’t ever let me go.”

  
“I promise I won’t if you promise you won’t.”

  
“I promise, Hazz.”

  
They’re falling into each other, collapsing because it’s all so messed up and it shouldn’t ever work when Louis keeps pushing and Harry keeps letting him.

  
It all needs to end so badly, but neither wants it to, and they’re both so sure that management will have a fit, but for now it really doesn’t matter.

  
A fit of sleep takes Louis, and then Harry, meaningless words about not letting go.

  
Harry doesn’t let go, and neither does Louis.

  
Someday, they’ll realize that this bed isn’t big enough for two people and that there’s not enough space for either to breathe, but somehow, they manage not to let go.


End file.
